


The Great British Host Off '14

by fezpo



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fezpo/pseuds/fezpo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Grimshaw, host of BBC Radio 1's Night Time Show, challenges Louis Tomlinson, host of Capital FM's Breakfast Show, to a radio show host off thingy...To The Death.</p><p>Not really though.</p><p>In which insults are traded and Louis must fight to save his honor...or something like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What The Heck is a Host Off?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [words_unravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/gifts).



> Written for words_unravel based on this prompt
> 
> Radio DJ AU
> 
> Nick and Louis are both radio hosts - while Louis presents a daytime show on a big station that’s really popular, Nick hosts a nighttime show at a small station that’s not as well known. They do, however, know of each other and give snarky reviews of each other’s shows without ever having met in person because Nick doesn’t like the music Louis plays and makes fun of it, and vice versa. One day Nick invites Louis to a ‘radio off’ to see who’s the better host, and Louis accepts. [x](http://temptmetobelieve.tumblr.com/post/32412025422/nick-and-louis-are-both-radio-hosts-while-louis)
> 
> Hope you like it!

“Hello nation,” Louis says, speaking clearly into his mic, greeting his listeners at Capital FM Radio. “For everyone who is just tuning in, that was Problem by Ariana Grande and before that we had Sam Smith singing Stay With Me. Good tunes to start off everyone’s Monday morning.” 

Louis glances around at his team; Liam is busy typing an email; Zayn is scrolling through twitter; Niall is playing a game, candy crush by the looks of it, but Harry is paying attention, eyes on Louis instead of on his computer screen.

“Eh, how was everyone’s weekends?” Louis asks, attempting to engage the others but only Harry responds the rest continue staring at their computers.

“Good, yeah. Went round to the pub with some of my mates, had a few pints. What about you, Lou?” Harry asks, always polite.

“Me, Harry. What did I do over the weekend? Hmm, funny you should ask,” Louis says. “Let’s see. Friday, nothing. Saturday, I did a bit of cleaning up, some laundry, made sure the flat was tip top, that sort of thing. Then, Saturday night I got a call from our very own Niall Horan.” Hearing his name, Niall tears his eyes away from his screen.

“Huh,” Niall says.

“Niall, Niall, Niall,” Louis chants, looking at Niall with an evil glint in his eye.

“Yes, Lou,” Niall says, already dreading where this is going.

“Niall, why don’t you tell the lovely people of Britain why you called me Saturday night. I’m sure they’d love to hear it,” Louis says, voice mock cheerful but expression promising destruction.

“You mean Saturday when I called to ask you out for pints?” Niall replies, face innocent.

“Ahh, he’s being shy this morning, ladies and gentlemen. Here, why don’t I tell the story. Nation, Saturday night, while I was watching the telly in my pajamas and eating chocolate digestives, my good friend Niall, the very same Niall that works on this show, calls me. I consider not picking up as it’s quite late but I figure Niall is probably pissed and a pissed Niall is an entertaining Niall. So I pick up the phone, and true to form, Niall is pissed but he manages to tell me through his slurred speech that he is drinking with none other than Brazilian football player Neymar. The Neymar. And he wants me to come down to drink with them.”

At this point, Niall can be heard groaning over the radio, Mic picking up the loud thump his head makes on the desk. Louis continues his story nonplussed.

“Now, for those of you who don’t know, I love football; go absolutely nuts about football and Niall knows this. So, immediately when Niall tells me he’s drinking with Neymar I get suspicious. I go ‘No, you’re not. You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?’ But Niall goes ‘No, no, no, Neymar’s right here. I’ll put him on the line’. Niall hands the phone off to someone I can’t see, this guy coming on the phone, speaking Portuguese or what I assume was Portuguese. The thing was, though, he sounded like Neymar, like exactly like the real Neymar. He says ‘Louis! Come drink!’ and then Niall comes back on the line and tells me to meet them at the bar in the London EDITION hotel Neymar is supposedly staying at. Convinced that he was the real Neymar I quickly change out of my pajamas and call a taxi as fast as I can to go meet them.” 

Here, Louis pauses, giving Niall his most deadly stare to which Niall looks appropriately cowed.

“Except when I reach the hotel and search the hotel bar, I see neither Niall nor Neymar. I go up to the bartender on duty and ask him if Neymar has been at the bar. He tells me no, adding that he would remember if Neymar had been staying at the hotel. I call Niall back just in case, already knowing the little-.”

“Louis! We’re live,” Liam says, cutting Louis off before Louis can curse on air.

“Already knowing the git has tricked me and sure enough the call goes straight to voicemail,” Louis finishes.

“Mate, it was just a joke. The lads and I were just having a laugh,” Niall pleads, disliking the unholy gleam in Louis’ eyes.

“Of course, Niall. Just having a bit of a laugh with some mates. I completely understand,” Louis says, his tone suggesting that he does not, in fact, understand. Changing directions, Louis says, “Nation, this morning I woke up and thought ‘Today seems like a great day to play Tweeted By’. What do you think, Zayn?”

“Reckon that sounds alright,” Zayn says in lazy agreement, always down to go along with Louis’ schemes. 

“You know you’re not allowed to play that game anymore, Lou. Not after last time,” Liam says, sending Louis an unimpressed look.

“Ah Li, stop being such a spoil sport. Besides it’s not my fault The Wanted boys are so touchy,” Louis huffs in his defense. 

“Louis,” Liam says in warning.

“Look, it’ll be fine. I promise not to start a twitter war,” Louis says, dismissing Liam’s concern. “Now Niall, if you would please hand over your phone.”

“Come on, Lou. It was just a joke,” Niall whines, reluctant to hand over his phone to Louis’ devious machinations.

“Think of it this way, Niall. This radio show is like a ship; I’m its rogue yet handsome Captain and you all are my loyal crew. You,” Louis says, pointing his finger at Niall, “have committed treason of the highest order. And, as punishment, you must walk the plank.”

“Niall knows how to swim, though, isn’t it, like, useless to throw him overboard,” Harry interjects, voice thoughtful.

“I think traditionally the sailors would tie canon balls to the traitor’s legs to make them sink,” adds Zayn, master of random trivia.

“Both of you shut it before I make you walk the plank as well,” Louis says, putting a stop to their needless chatter as any worthy Captain would. “Niall, your phone, if you will,” Louis demands, making a ‘hand it over gesture’ at Niall. 

“No,” Niall groans but he hands over the phone as requested. Louis fiddles around with Niall’s phone, finding his twitter app and typing out a message, short and sweet. 

“And send,” Louis says, pressing the blue tweet button. He hands the phone back to Niall with a self satisfied smirk on his face.

“Oh god, what did you do,” Niall asks, watching in dismay as his notifications blow up.

“Nothing that you didn’t deserve,” Louis answers, not the least bit sorry.

“@Louis_Tomlinson is the King of Radio not to mention the fittest bloke ever," Niall reads aloud for everyone listening in. "And he’s added the crown emoji, the thumbs up emoji and the picture of the guy smiling emoji." Under his breath, Niall mutters, “Yeah, right, more like the vainest bloke I’ve ever met.”

“Not what your tweet says,” Louis says, sing song, way too smug about his own prank.

Over on the other side of the desk, Louis notices Liam pointing something out to Zayn on his computer screen.

“What are you pointing at, Liam,” Louis asks.

“Huh, oh, nothing Lou. Just showing Zayn your tweet. Very clever, that. What time is it? “ Liam asks, trying to change the subject. “Shouldn’t you be doing the waking up song about now?”

“Why are you trying to change the subject. What are you hiding,” Louis asks, eying Liam’s guilty expression.

“Nothing. It’s time for you to do the waking up song.”

“I know you’re hiding something. You look all sweaty and nervous. Zayn, what was he showing you?” Louis says, turning to Zayn to discover what Liam is hiding.

“Nothing, Lou. Just the tweet you sent. It’s already gotten a bunch of replies,” Zayn says, letting slip that little bit of information.

Suspicions aroused, Louis pulls up Niall’s twitter page on his computer. He doesn’t get very far before Liam is nagging him again.

“Louis, what are you doing?” Liam asks, pitch rising at the end. “Remember you’re on the radio, Lou. You’ve got a job to do. It’s time to do the waking up song, ok.”

“Fine, Liam, don’t have a cow. Alright listeners heres 5 Seconds of Summer doing the waking up song,” Louis says, playing the pre-recorded sound bit. “Hope you’re all awake. Next up we have their newest single called Don’t Stop.”

Louis puts on the song to buy himself some time to search Niall’s twitter page. He clicks open the replies to the tweet he sent scrolling quickly down the page looking for something that could have upset Liam.

Most of the replies aren’t even related to the tweet. Instead most of the replies are along the lines of declarations of neverending love and pleas for Niall to ‘please follow back’. He smiles at the few who mention their love for him in their replies. There are a couple of nastier comments, as well, but nothing he hasn’t seen before; mostly childish stuff about his looks. Whatever, Louis thinks, you can’t win ‘em all, and scrolls past those without a second thought. Then he sees it; halfway down the page, there’s a reply from an @grimmers. 

@NiallOfficial Always thought @Louis_Tomlinson had a face made for radio.

The owner of the above twitter account was Nick Grimshaw, a rival radio show host. He hosted The Late Night Show at BBC Radio 1 and was a complete wanker, constantly insulting Louis and his show with rude tweets and nasty comments on his radio show. Louis hated him with a passion. Some of that hate must show on his face because Liam becomes frantic, redoubling his efforts to keep Louis in line. 

“Please, Lou. I know you don’t like him and he’s a wanker for tweeting what he did but don’t say anything about it on the radio.”

“That guy is such a git,” Louis says, jaw clenched. 

“30 seconds,” warns Zayn.

Louis takes a deep breath, managing to reign in his anger and his urge to mention @grimmers tweet on the air.

“Hope you liked that one,” Louis says, coming in as the song fades out. “New single from 5SOS. What’d you think, Harry, pretty good jam, innit,” Forcing himself to stay on the topic of music but inwardly thinking of ways to enact his revenge on the pretentious twat.

~*~

Later that night Louis stands at his stove making dinner, heating up water for pasta while listening to the radio. He’s alone in his flat, declining an invitation to go out to dinner with the team, preferring to stay in for the night. Earlier that afternoon he had responded to Grimshaw’s tweet with a tweet of his own: @grimmers at least people listen to my show #moyles>grimshaw.

Not his best work, for sure, but Louis had been angry, was still angry. Liam had texted him soon after he had sent the text with a single frowny face obviously not pleased with Louis’ tweet. Louis knew Nick would retaliate, unable to resist the desire to have the last word.

That was why Louis was sitting at his kitchen counter, radio station turned to BBC Radio 1, listening to Nick’s show. His ears were primed for any mention of his name or Capital FM. 

With both Louis and Nick sending each other nasty comments via twitter and thinly veiled insults on their respective radio shows, tuning into Nick’s show had become a common occurrence. Their feud had reached such a heated state that Louis had been told off more than once by the big bosses upstairs to cut it out, Liam lecturing him tirelessly to ignore Grimshaw’s taunts. But Louis couldn’t help it; there was something about Nick bloody Grimshaw that rubbed him the wrong way. 

Louis hadn’t even met the man in real life, only interacting with him through social media. He hadn’t even known who Nick was before receiving his promotion to Breakfast Show Host at Capital FM. He only became aware of Nick’s existence when Nick mentioned Louis in an interview. The interviewer had asked about the BBC’s radio rival, Capital FM, and if Nick ever checked out the competition. Nick answered that he didn’t listen often, preferring rock to pop music, but confessed that he had tuned in to the early show one day and had found the host’s voice annoying, high and reedy, almost as if a squirrel were talking.

Louis had been incensed when he had read that article. Never one to take a slight laying down, he called Nick out for his remarks on the show the next day, calling him a hipster wannabe who wouldn’t know good music if it bit him in the ass. It had been downhill from there.

Hearing his name, Louis is pulled from his thoughts, focusing more closely on his kitchen radio.

“Does he really think he’s a better host than me?” Nick says, voice filling out through the radio’s speakers. “I mean, he might have more listeners, I’ll grant him that, but that’s because they’re a mainstream radio station. We’re a small, relatively unknown, independent radio station so of course they’re going to have more listeners. Doesn’t mean he’s a better host.” 

“Listeners is how we measure the ratings, though, love,” Fiona replies. “He’s got more of those for sure.”

“No, hang on a minute,” Ian says, butting in. “Nick makes a fair point. They’ve got more funding, more advertisers, they can afford more exposure in the media so it makes sense that they would have more listeners. The ratings don’t account for that.”

“Yes, ok but if not for polling the amount of listeners, how would you rate who’s the better host?” Matt asks, a reasonable enough question.

After a momentary silence, Nick says, “We should have a host off.”

In the background, Louis can hear Matt groan. 

“No, Nick. I don’t know what that is but you are not challenging Louis Tomlinson to a host off,” Matt insists.

“Actually that sounds like an interesting idea,” Ian says, sounding curious. “What exactly is a host off?”

“How should I know,” Nick says, dumbfounded. “Just made it up, didn’t I.”

“Of course you did, love,” Fiona says, laughing fondly.

“Ok, but what do you think a host off would entail?” Ian asks again.

“Do not encourage him, “ Matt chides.

“No, wait, hang on a second. I quite like this idea. We could have some sort of radio quiz. Whoever wins is named best host ever,” Nick says, triumphantly.

“No,” Matt replies in a flat voice. “Play the next record.”

“You never let me have any fun,” Nick says, and Louis can hear the pout through his radio.

They move on after that, no more mention of Louis or a host off. 

Louis thought the whole discussion was ridiculous. Even if there was such a thing as a host off, Nick would never beat him at being the best radio show host. Besides, polling the amount of listeners a show had was a perfectly good way to rate a host; popularity proving who was the better host. Nick was obviously jealous that Louis’ show had more listeners than his. 

Nick’s argument that Louis’ show only had the bigger audience because they had more funding was nonsense. It was true that Capital FM was the larger station with paid billboards on buses and ads on the telly but that had nothing to do with it. BBC had fewer listeners because nobody wanted to hear the boring, indie crap that the station played all day long. It was nothing but sad, depressing love songs with angsty lyrics. Louis couldn’t stand that kind of music; hearing it made him want to pour cement in his ears to never have to hear it again. 

Nick’s assumption that Louis ‘paid’ for his listeners, so to speak, made Louis angry. Louis was a good host. He had worked hard to earn this job, starting at the bottom of the rung as an unpaid intern when he was still in uni. Slowly, he had worked his way up the ladder until he’d been offered his current position hosting Capital FM’s Breakfast Show. 

When he had been offered the promotion, he had been taken completely by surprise figuring that his age disqualified him for such a coveted position. He knew he was young to be promoted so soon in his career but that only motivated him to work harder to prove himself worthy of the task. His team of producers was also very young, around the same age as Louis. Like Louis, everyone on his production team was good at what they did, and had as much experience working in radio as Louis did. 

Out of the four of his producers, Louis had known Zayn the best, having worked with him before. Zayn had been one of his producers on the previous show he had hosted and they had formed a fast, lasting friendship, bonding over tattoos and comic books. After receiving his promotion, Louis had personally requested that Zayn be put on his team as one of his producers for The Breakfast Show. 

The other three producers on his team he had not known as well and were chosen by the executive producers of the show. He knew Harry second best, after Zayn, having worked with him a few times on segments for his previous show but nothing consistent. However, he had got on well with Harry the few times they had worked together and had been excited to have him on the team knowing he would bring a fresh and innovative style to the show. 

Niall, their resident Irish ambassador, Louis had seen around the office, usually in a group smiling or laughing at something. Louis had run into him a couple of times in the break room but that was it. When they started working together on the show they had immediately clicked. 

Liam was another story. Louis had always gotten the impression Liam was the serious sort from the occasional glimpses he saw of him around the office. Talking with his coworkers, Louis heard similar stories confirming Liam as a boring but hard worker. 

From the get go, they had clashed, butting heads between song breaks multiple times during those first few weeks working together on the show. Liam was constantly nagging Louis about watching what he said on air and making sure that what he said was appropriate for all ages; this, of course, had the opposite effect, goading Louis into making as many sexual innuendos as possible during the show, turning anything even remotely suggestive into a penis joke, Liam blushing crimson everytime. 

As the weeks went by Louis had worn Liam down until Liam just giggled at Louis’ sexual innuendos. He would still tell Louis off for being inappropriate but without any heat behind his remonstrations. Louis like to brag about how he had corrupted sweet, innocent Liam, bringing it up at every possible opportunity. 

Louis could hardly believe that they had only been working together for less than a year; it seemed longer for how well Louis knew the other lads and vice versa. Their working relationship had blossomed into a comfortable friendship, as well, with them oftentimes going out for dinner or drinks after work and on the weekends. He was convinced the real reason for the show’s popularity was due to how well his team worked together and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. The show’s success had nothing to do with how many advertisers Capital FM had, like some people insinuated, Louis thought darkly.

Getting up from the kitchen stool, Louis walks over to his radio switching the off button with a little more force than necessary. Louis’ going to prove to Nick bloody Grimshaw who’s the better host.

~*~

The next morning on the show Louis decides to bring up the idea of a host off with the team.

“Lads, guess what I did last night,” Louis asks once the last record fades out.

“Went to bed early,” Liam says, coming up with the most boring guess imaginable.

“Stole a car,” Zayn drones, disinterested.

“Went on a hot date,” Niall says, winking at Louis.

“Adopted a litter of kittens,” Harry chirps, eyes hopeful.

“No to all of you. And stop guessing you’re all terrible at this,” Louis says, unimpressed with his teams half-assed guessing. “No, last night I listened to Grimshaw’s late night show.” Hoping to draw gasps of outrage, Louis is disappointed when all he gets are four blank stares.

“Me, too,” Harry says after a beat. “I try to listen whenever I can.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Louis says, giving Harry a betrayed look. 

“He’s funny. And I like the music he plays,” Harry says, ignoring how purple Louis’ face is turning, a large vein throbbing down the center of his forehead .

“I can’t believe this,” Louis says, throwing his hands up. “My whole team is a bunch of dirty traitors.”

“Hey, I don’t like indie music. Pop music is where it’s at,” Niall says, coming to Louis’ defense, trying to squirrel his way back into Louis’ good graces.

“Quiet you,” Louis says, pointing an angry finger at Niall. “I haven’t forgotten your prank call that easily.” Niall sits back, head hanging in disgrace.

“Lou, was there a point to this or can we get on with the show,” Liam cuts in, stopping the conversation before it can derail off course too much.

“Yes, Liam, I did have a point. Last night while listening to Grimshaw’s show, I heard him challenge me to a host off to see who was the better host,” Louis says, lifting his brows haughtily in Liam’s direction.

“No, he didn’t,” Harry corrects him. “He just suggested that a host off would be a better way to judge who was a better host than the current rating system of polling how many listeners a show has. It’s an interesting idea but I don’t know how it would work, like, would there be a judge who picked the winner or something; the concept needs a bit more work, I think.”

The rest of the team give each other baffled looks. Niall shrugs his shoulders when Liam looks to him for understanding, then turns to look at Zayn to see if he’s understood what’s going on but sees Zayn has a similar expression of confusion on his face.

“Great, Harry. Thanks for your input,” Louis says, moving on, twisting to address Liam. “Nick Grimshaw challenged me to a host off on his show last night and I accept. Grimshaw, if you’re listening I’m picking up the gauntlet. Prepare to duel.”

“Louis,” Liam groans, dropping his face into his hands. “This is the 18th century, you’re not dueling anyone, especially not Nick Grimshaw.”

“It was a metaphor. Do you guys not know what a metaphor is?” Louis asks, glancing around at his team, only somewhat kidding.

“Louis,” Zayn says, expression calm and voice firm. “It’s time to put on another record.”

“Alright. Heres Ed Sheeran with Sing,” Louis says, obeying Zayn’s command, having learnt not to mess with Zayn when he uses that tone of voice.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” Liam asks him, shutting off the mics, in order to yell at Louis in private. “You need to stop this childish fighting with Nick.”

“I’m serious,” Louis tells Liam. “I want to have a host off with him. Show him who’s the better host once and for all.”

“That’s not even a real thing,” Liam says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I don’t care. I want to do it and I’m going to win; show that posh wannabe who he’s messing with,” Louis says, a cold gleam in his eye.

“But,” Liam starts, cutting off when Zayn puts his hand on his arm. 

“If we were to do this,” Zayn says, tightening his hold on Liam’s arm to quiet his squawk of protest. “If we did this you’d have to promise not to say or do anything unprofessional.” At this, Louis makes an indignant snort through his nose; Zayn talks over him. 

“That means no cursing, no insults, nothing inappropriate. Can you promise not to do any of those things?” Zayn asks, fixing Louis with an intense look.

“Yes,” Louis sighs, breath leaving him visibly deflated. “I promise to be a perfect little angel, alright?”

“Good,” Zayn says, nodding. “Now what exactly did you have in mind for this host off?”

“I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubbles,” Harry chimes in, “but are you sure Nick would even agree to it? He was only joking when he mentioned having a host off on his show last night.”

“Uh, guys,” Niall says, looking up from his computer screen, interrupting their argument. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Grimshaw’s just sent you a tweet, Lou.”

Hurrying to open a new tab, Louis clicks open twitter and types in Nick's name pulling up his most recent tweet. @Louis_Tomlinson YOU’RE ON.


	2. And The Winner Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Breakfast Show team figure out what a Host Off is and Louis and Nick battle it out for the title of Britain's best radio DJ.
> 
> Alternatively, Louis and Nick snipe at each other on the radio and it is revealed that Niall has wet dreams about Justin Timberlake.

“Alright nation, the day is almost upon us. As many of you already know tomorrow we will be holding the much anticipated Great British Host Off,” Louis says on air.

“Niall, do your announcer voice,” Harry says.

Niall clears his throat, “The Great British Host Off. A battle for Britain’s most coveted title of Best Host between our very own Louis Tomlinson, Capital FM’s Breakfast Show Dj, and BBC Radio 1’s Night Time Show Dj, Nick Grimshaw.”

“Wow, quite an introduction, Niall,” Louis says.

“Perfect, Niall. I’ve clipped that up and we’ll use it as the introduction for the segment tomorrow,” Liam says.

“Should be a good show,” Zayn puts in.

The whole team has been working hard to promote the special segment of the Breakfast Show for the last two weeks, announcing the feature on the radio as well as tweeting reminders. They used the time in between to organize the event, needing the two weeks to properly set everything up.

Zayn and Liam had pitched the idea to the bosses upstairs when Louis first announced his intention to hold the host off. They needed the executive producers to be on board with the idea before they could go ahead with their plan. Louis had been present as well but served a mostly decorative purpose, Zayn and Liam presenting all of the important points. Having gotten the green light from the big bosses upstairs, Liam officially contacted Nick’s team with the offer to participate in a host off. The feature would be a collaboration between the two radio stations with their respective production teams working together on the details of the feature. Nick’s team had quickly responded with a yes.

The planning was accomplished through emails between Liam and one of Nick’s producers, Matt. Each show’s production team came up with a couple of ideas for radio games that Nick and Louis could compete in. Voting on the game ideas, they were able to collectively narrow it down to three games: Guess That Artist, Real or No Real, and Two Truths and a Lie.

Next they had hammered out the logistics of actually holding the event. BBC Radio 1 had agreed to let the host off be broadcast at Capital FM’s studios as long as BBC Radio 1 was mentioned along with the details of Nick’s Night Time Show.

In order to decide who won, they would have listeners vote. The voting would start the day of the show and close at midnight on the same day with listeners only allowed to vote once. Both radio stations made sure the audience knew where and when to vote; each website had a link to the voting page. Both teams had also tweeted the link from their personal twitters.

Essentially Louis and Nick would be co-hosting Capital FM’s Breakfast Show. Louis wasn’t exactly thrilled about it but it would have to do; anything to prove Louis was better than Nick.

“Yes and be sure to vote. We’ve sent out another tweet with the link to the voting website,” Liam says.

“Yes be sure to vote for me. Very important,” Louis says.

“You vote for whoever you think is the better host,” Zayn says, slow and methodical as if explaining to a small child.

“Yeah, me,” Louis says. “All of you better be voting for me as well.” He gives each of the boys a warning look.

“We can’t vote,” Harry says. “It wouldn’t be, like, impartial. It’s a, what do you call it, conflicting interest.”

“Conflict of interest,” Louis says. “And yes, it is a conflict of interest because if you don’t vote for me and I lose you’re all fired.”

“You can’t do that! He can’t do that, can he Liam?” Niall asks, anxious despite his protestations.

“No, he can’t do that,” Liam sighs. “Louis stop threatening to fire us. You know you can’t do that. We’ve been over this already.”

“Humph, well I don’t see why not, you’re _my_ producers. But, no you won’t be fired,” Louis says, seeing Liam about to go into lecture mode. “Either way, I hope all you fine listeners will vote for me tomorrow when you tune in from 9 to 12. Mr. Grimshaw will be joining me for a gruelling 3 hours of challenges increasing in difficulty and danger that may result in injury or death.”

“No it won’t,” Harry says. “They’re only trivia type games, no physical effort required.”

“Harry, why must you always ruin my fun,” Louis says. “I’m just trying to liven up the show, give it a bit of spice, get the people pumped. Speaking of which, if I win tomorrow I have promised the faithful listeners that I will tweet a compromising picture of dear Harold here.”

“Louis, you can’t bribe the voters. That’s cheating,” Liam says.

“What? No, it’s not. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

“Yeah so they’ll vote for you,” Liam explains. “Otherwise known as cheating.”

“Not much of a bribe,” Niall says. “Who hasn’t seen Harry in a compromising position.”

“Heyyy,” Harry says, objecting to the slandering of his modesty.

“I’m just saying, as a straight man, you’ve made me very familiar with another man’s naked body.”

“It’s not like you don’t have the same equipment.”

“Just saying, if you were going to bribe the people of Great Britain you should have promised a pic of Liam or Zayn.”

“Ah ickle Niall is jealous,” Louis coos. “Well bend over then, Niall. Let’s get a pic of your bum to tweet.”

“Boys... Louis you’re not going to tweet any kind of picture of any of us in a state of undress,” Liam admonishes.

Louis looks at Zayn to see if he can override Liam’s veto but Zayn gives a tiny shake of his head.

“Fine. Sorry ladies and gentlemen but you heard limp noodle Liam. He says its a no go. Please listen in and vote for me tomorrow but only if you think I’m the better host,” Louis says, sounding much too serene about having his prank foiled.

Not even a full minute later, “Louis!” liam exclaims, looking down at his phone with alarm. “I can’t believe you sent out a tweet saying you’d still post the pic.”

“What? No, I didn’t,” Louis denies, too quick to be anything but a lie.

“I get your tweets sent directly to my phone, I can see the tweet. _Pay no attention to limp noodle @Real_Liam_Payne I’ll still post the pic of Harry if I win_ ,” Liam recites, glaring at Louis.

“Alright, alright. No pics,” Louis says, throwing a handful of paperclips at Liam. “Spoilsport. Followers please show Liam how angry you are with him by spamming his twitter with pictures of spoons.”

A few seconds later, “Niall!” Liam screeches. “What are you doing? Stop sending me tweets of spoons!” Niall just shrugs, unrepentant.

“Atta, boy, Nialler,” Louis says.

“I’m quite looking forward to tomorrow,” Harry says, changing the subject.

“Are you Harry?” Zayn says, as in the background the sound of a high five can be heard.

“Yeah it’ll be cool to meet Nick in person after listening to him on the radio for so long.”

“You know,” Louis says, regarding harry from Head to foot. “Maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way. Harry, how would you rate your ability to flirt. Strong, would you say?”

“No, nope, not happening. No to whatever it is you’re thinking,” Liam says, shutting Louis down right away.

“What?” Louis asks, feigning ignorance. “Harry’s a friendly lad. What a better way to ease the tension between our two radio shows than for them to form a friendship. And if Grimshaw happens to be distracted by Harry well no loss there.”

“Stop trying to cheat,” Liam says.

“It’s not cheating it’s called strategy,” Louis insists.

“Ok, Mr. It’s Not Called Cheating It’s called Strategy can we get on with the show now.”

“For everyone listening in, Louis just stuck his tongue out at Liam,” Niall says.

“Tattletale,” Louis hisses. Zayn lifts one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Next up we have Calvin Harris’ Summer. Great tune. You’re listening to it here, on Capital FM Radio.”

 

~*~

 

The next morning Louis wakes up a half an hour earlier than usual. He dresses with care, taking extra time to style his hair just so. “Face made for radio,” Louis mutters to himself. He’ll show Nick who’s got a face made for radio.

In the studio, Louis proceeds to drink 3 cups of coffee in the couple of hours before Nick is scheduled to arrive. Finally Nick does arrive, showing up during Niall’s sports segment. with his production team in tow. Louis goes out to meet them where Liam and Harry are showing them around the office.

“Grimshaw,” Louis greets Nick with a curt nod in the other man’s direction.

“Tomlinson,” Nick replies, a curious twitch to his eyebrows.

“Ready to battle?”

Nick starts laughing. “Sorry, sorry. I know this is suppose to be super serious, duel to the death for you have besmirched my honor serious but you can’t actually be _serious_?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“You’re feisty, I’ll give you that. Sort of like a punk rock tinkerbell.” Nick says, giving Louis a once over.

“Ha, more like Peter Pan. And you,” Louis says, assessing Nick with disdain. “You can be Captain Hook.”

“I’ve always thought his hook was rather dashing.” Nick smiles, undaunted by having been cast the villain. “This is the rest of my pirate’s crew. Matt, Ian and Fiona.”

Liam gives Louis a little shove in the back when Louis just stands there, glaring. “Right. Seems you’ve already met Liam and Harry,” he says gesturing to his left. Sweeping his arm to his right, he says, “This is Niall and Zayn, the other two producers of my show.”

Zayn and Niall chorus their hellos.

“Let me show you guys where we’ll be broadcasting the show from,” Liam says, leading the way to the studio where he motions to the extra chairs they’ve brought in for Nick’s team. With both teams present there aren’t enough mics for everyone to be audible so they had decided that only Liam and Matt would be mic’d along with Louis and Nick. Everyone else would be present in the studio room but seated off to the side, away from any equipment.

Arranging themselves at the desk, Nick and Matt on one side, Louis and Liam on the other, the four of them sit down to start the show.

“So, Louis,” Liam says, “when we’re back on air, you’ll introduce our guests and then we’ll do a coin toss to see who goes first and take it from there. Sound good?”

Everyone nods and Matt says, “You’re back on in 5, 4, 3,” then he mouths 2, 1.

“Welcome back everybody. With me right now are our very special guests Nick Grimshaw and his producer Matt Fincham.” Nick and Matt say hello into their mics. “I hope you’re ready for the greatest host off of your life, Grimshaw.”

“Can’t wait, Tomlinson.” Nick smirks. “Although can I just say for the record, I was dead wrong.”

“Dead wrong about what,” Louis says, weary and suspicious of where Nick is going with this.

“You haven’t got a face made for radio. You could easily have a show on the telly,” Nick says. “Could play the best friend or summat.”

“Funny that, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we could appear on the same show. You could audition to play my dad,” Louis says. “You’re what, 35, 40?”

“29 actually, love,” Nick says, tight smile screwed onto his face. “That’s probably the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me. Feel like I need to moisturize immediately.” Nick touches his face questioningly, pulling at the skin around his eyes and jaw.

“Unless your moisturizer can make you 21 again, I don’t think it’s going to be much help,” Louis snipes.

“Matty, make the bad man stop saying mean things! I’m being bullied, I am. Your a bully,” Nick whines, pouting at Matt.

“Nope, you asked for that,” Matt replies without an ounce of sympathy. “Now quit whining, this is a competition.”

Liam flips the coin and unfortunately for Louis it lands on heads meaning he has to go first.

“Louis, you’re up first. Why don’t you tell the good people the name of the game and how to play,” Liam says.

“This next game is called Two Truths and a Lie. Pretty simple really. Each of us will tell the other two true facts about ourselves and one lie. Then the other has to guess, out of the three facts, which is the lie. And we write the lie on a sheet of paper so neither of us,” Louis says, side-eyeing Nick, “can change our minds so the other loses.”

“Of course, wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh huh,” Louis says. He trusts Nick as much as he trusts Niall not to have eaten the last slice of pizza on movie night, which is to say: not at all. “Here we go then. Two truths and a lie: I played Danny Zuko in my school’s production of Grease, I have 6 sisters, and I know how to surf.”

“Oh those are so boring.”

“Excuse me.” Louis says, looking as if steam is about to come out of his ears like a human tea kettle.

“Boring. You need to choose three facts that are really outrageous to fool your opponent. Yours are too ordinary, way to easy to guess.”

“Oh, is that so? Well if they’re that easy, which was the lie?”

“Pfft, piece of cake. You have five sisters, not six. You have six siblings altogether but only five sisters,” Nick says, well pleased with himself.

“Are you reading off your phone or something?” Louis asks, holding up the folded piece of paper with the answer: I have 6 sisters. “That’s cheating. Liam, he’s cheating.”

“What, no I’m not! You’re just bad at this.”

“Fine. It’s your turn. Let’s see you do better if you’re such an expert.”

“Nation, watch how it’s done. Or listen, I guess. This is how you play two truths and a lie.” Nick clears his throat, more for show than anything else. “I was once kicked out of Paris Hilton’s house, Lindsay Lohan puked all over my boots one night out, and I hate tea and coffee.”

“None of those sound true,” Louis says, frustrated.

“‘s the point, isn’t it,” Nick says. “Come on, let’s have a guess then.”

“Ugh. Well obviously the not liking tea or coffee is true because only uncivilized heathens don’t like tea,” Louis says, receiving a warning glance from Liam.

“It reminds me of teacher’s breath when I would get told off at school. Not pleasant memories, their milky tea breath in my face,” Nick explains.

“I’m sure you deserved it. You were probably a rotten child.”

“Oh like you were a perfectly well behaved child. Doubt it. You look like you were a handful from the get go.”

“Lou was a menace,” Liam says. “He was always getting sent home for pranks.”

“Liam, what are you doing giving away state secrets?”

“Ha, knew it. So what’s it going to be?”

“I can’t believe either the Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan story happened so I’m just going to guess that you were never thrown out of Paris Hilton’s house.”

“Wrong,” Nick says, unfolding the piece of paper with ‘Lindsay Lohan threw up on my boots’ on it.

“Unbelieveable. What were you even doing at her house? Besides getting thrown out?”

“Well, see I was there with some mates. I was visiting America at the time and one of my mates knew her and invited me along. And I happened to make one tiny, itsy, bitsy comment about her jail sentence and she got upset. How was I to know she was sensitive about it.”

“Unbelievable,” Louis says again.

“Well, you win this round Grimmy. We’re going to play some music and when we come back the Great British Host Off will continue,” Liam says.

“That went well,” Matt says.

“Yeah I thought you two did great,” Liam says.

Louis says nothing, just sits and glares at Nick, who looks back pleased as punch.

“Oh come on, love. We’re just having a friendly game, nothing to get upset about.”

“Whatever.”

“And we’re back. For those of you only now tuning in, I, Nick Grimshaw, am battling it out with resident Breakfast Show host Louis Tomlinson. And so far I’m winning,” Nick says, as the last song they played fades out.

“Just wait, Grimshaw.”

“For you, darling, always.”

“Bleh. Get on with the introducing next game, would you?”

“So next we’re going to play Real or No Real: Celebrity Edition. Liam and Matt will be quizzing us on our celebrity gossip and we have to decide if the news is real or not real. Up to date on your celebrity gossip, Tomlinson.”

“Reckon I know a fair bit.”

“Great. Let’s get started. Matt, if you would read the first headline, please.”

“Real or No real: Kim Kardashian has a new book coming out called Selfish and it’s filled with 352 pages of selfies.”

“Def real,” Nick says. “I follow her on instagram, she’s got a ton of selfies. All selfies in fact.”

“Yeah, sounds real,” Louis agrees.

“Real. Kim Kardashian is indeed releasing a new book called Selfish filled entirely with selfies,” Matt says, playing the ding, ding sound for a right answer.

“Real or no real: Jay Z and Beyonce were caught backstage in a very compromising position,” Liam says.

“Oooh, sounds like one of your dreams Liam,” Louis says. Liam glares at him.

“Well, Beyonce is one heck of a woman,” Nick comments.

“She is, but she wasn’t in it.”

“Oooh, that’s the kind of dream I like. Liam, do tell.”

“It wasn’t like that at all. We were at some like party and he asked me to produce one of his songs,” Liam says, flushed bright, bright red.

“No need to be embarrassed Li-li. Matt’s had _dreams_ about Chris Martin before,” Nick says, shielding his mouth from Matt’s view, whispering to Liam.

“We can all hear you. You’re mic’ed, you know. And also that’s a blatant lie,” Matt says.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Chris Martin,” Louis says.

“That’s what I said. See Matt, even Louis agrees. Nothing a straight, heterosexual male should be ashamed of,” Nick says.

“Niall had a wet dream about Justin Timberlake once.”

Loud banging is heard from outside the studio where Niall is rapping on the two way mirror. He had gone to get a snack and there’s a piece of lettuce dangling from his mouth from his half chewed sandwich bite. Everyone in the studio laughs; Niall isn’t allowed inside the studio with food.

“I say no real,” Nick says, returning their attention to the game. “Jay-z and Beyonce are way too classy to get caught.”

“Yeah but have you heard Partition. I mean if that song is true then what’s the difference between a limo and their dressing room. I say real.”

“No real: Rumors of a divorce are circling the couple as sources are saying they seem distant,” Liam says.

Matt and Liam go through a couple more celebrity news items. Surprisingly, Louis wins the game with his extensive knowledge of Justin Bieber’s recent instagram pics featuring Kendall Jenner.

“What? Niall loves Justin Bieber, ok. He keeps me up to date on all things Bieber,” Louis says defensively when he answers the question correctly.

“Moving on, Liam and I picked out 5 songs each from our respective stations playlist and we’re going to let the computer pick one at random. It’ll play 15 seconds clip of it and you must guess the artist. Understand?” Matt asks. “Alright. Here goes.”

Nick goes first this time, listens and guesses all five artists correctly. Louis fares worse, only managing two out of his five right. Louis fumes.

“That’s not fair. I’ve never even heard of London Grammar!” Louis protests.

“What? Never heard of London Grammar. Mate, you’ve been living under a rock.”

“Says you. I can’t believe you got all of yours right,” Louis says, having a full on strop about it. “How do you even know who Rita Ora is? I thought you only played hipster indie music on your show.”

“Mostly. Doesn’t mean I don’t listen to anything else on my free time. Absolutely love Rita Ora.”

Liam taps his watch, signaling to Louis that they’re out of time.

“Well, that’s it listeners. Thanks to our guests for joining us for this special segment of the Breakfast Show, The Great British Host Off. Don’t forget to vote. Remember voting closes at midnight tonight and we’ll be announcing the results tomorrow on the show,” Louis says signing off.

They all go out for drinks after the show. Well they say they’re going out for lunch since it’s only 12:30 in the afternoon but everyone orders a drink and Niall’s had 2 pints by the time the appetizers come. Louis’ sat between Zayn on his left and Harry on his right who is chattering away happily to Nick. Across from him Matt and Niall seem to be discussing something excitedly although knowing Niall they’re probably just talking about what they ordered for lunch. Fiona, Ian and Liam are likewise engaged in animated conversation.

“I’d like to say thanks to Capital FM for having us,” Matt says, raising his beer to get everyone’s attention. “It was a lot of fun to work on this project with you all.”

“Happy to have you. Thanks so much for agreeing to collaborate with us. And a special thanks to our hosts,” Liam says, nodding to Louis and Nick in turn. “Who managed to go an entire 3 hours without killing each other.”

“Well I won’t say it was easy,” Nick says.

“Understatement,” Louis adds.

“But I had fun. What do you say, Tomlinson,” Nick asks, leaning forward to see Louis on the other side of Harry. “Want to let bygones be bygones?”

Harry kicks him under the table when Louis has let the silence go on too long. “Yeah, alright. Bygones,” Louis agrees.

Lunch arrives then and everyone digs into their food. The host off had been surprisingly fun, less of a competition and more of a game. Louis had expected them to be snippy at each other, trading underhanded insults, but even though they had traded a couple jabs it was more like banter than actual fighting.

Nick didn’t seem to take any of Louis’ disparaging remarks too seriously and any insults he threw at Louis were said with that infuriating curious tilt of the eyebrow, light and easy tone that told Louis Nick didn’t mean any of it. Louis didn’t know what to make of it.

After lunch their numbers were cut in half, people having dinner plans to get to and Matt and Ian having to leave to prepare for the Night Time Show. Louis had been planning to take off as well but Harry convinced him to stay. Niall needed no convincing, now on his fourth pint and counting.

They moved to a smaller table by the bar since it was only the five of them now. Louis, finished with his drink, offers to order another round. On his way back from the bathroom Nick spots him at the bar and makes his way over.

“What are you drinking?”

“Heineken,” Louis says, elbows resting on the bar.

“Beer, bleh. Prefer wine meself.”

“You would,” Louis says. Nick’s reflection is visible in the mirror behind the bar and Louis can see Nick’s quizzical frown at Louis’ words.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“You’re posh. You’re the type to shop at Waitrose even if the Tesco is closer. You do it with your voice, too. You sound way much more northern off air.”

“I’ve been told that before, actually,” Nick says. Louis watches as he runs his index finger along the grain of the wood of the bar top. “What would you say to getting drinks with me, sometime? I promise to take you to the cheapest, seediest pub I can find. Not a clean glass in the place.”

“What, like, a date?” Louis asks, turning to look at Nick instead of his reflection.

“If you like?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I like you Tomlinson. You’ve got spunk,” Nick says, tapping Louis on the arm. “And you’re easy on the eyes. So what do you say?”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this but yeah, ok, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Perfect. We kind of have opposite schedules but does Saturday work for you?”

“Sure.”

Nick helps Louis carry the drinks back to the table where the rest of their group is waiting. They finish their round of drinks and then Nick and Fiona have to get going to join Matt and Ian at the studio. When Fiona and Nick leave, Louis has Nick’s number saved in his phone.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Louis comes into the studio to find all four of his producers with shifty, sketchy looks on their faces.

“What’s going on? Why do you all look as if someone has kicked your puppy?” Louis asks.

“Louis, now before I say anything I want you to keep in mind that the Great British Host Off was an amazing success,” Liam says, hands held out in a placating gesture.

“And you’ll always be a winner in our eyes,” Niall says.

“Niall,” they all groan.

“Somebody please tell me what’s going on,” Louis says, “you’re all acting like weirdos.”

“The results came in,” Harry says, “We know who won the Host Off.”

“It was a tie,” Zayn says.

“Technically neither of us won if it was a tie,” Louis says, sitting in his chair and adjusting his mic.

“So... you’re not mad,” Liam asks..

“No.”

“Wait. You mean to tell us you’re not even a little bit upset about not winning,” Niall asks.

“No, should I be?”

“Well considering the fact that you threatened to fire us,” Harry says.

“You also threatened to disown us as your friends,” Liam says.

“Remember when he threatened to demote us if he couldn’t fire us,” Niall says.

“Oh, yeah and don’t forget he told us he would publicly shame us on air if he didn’t win,” Zayn says.

“Alright, alright you’ve made your point. Yes, I might have been a little harsh in my desire to win the host off but that’s all in the past.”

Hand on his mic switch, Louis says, “And I’m doing on a date with Nick on Saturday.” Then, before any of them can respond, he flips his mic on.

“Morning Nation, how are all my lovely listeners doing today?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter of this. So stay tuned, should be up in a couple of weeks. And as always, come say hi at [my tumblr.](fezpo.tumblr.com/ask)

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](http://1dezpo.tumblr.com) Come say hi :)


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